- 5 Loads of Laundry
- Cleaned out the remaining crap from CR's new room, so now I am totally moved out of there
- 2 Loads of dishes
- Swept the deck of all the accumulated storm debris from all the storms we've been having over the last month
- Swept up the floor in the laundry room and straightened it up a bit.
- Swept the kitchen floor
- Washed Widget, applied medicated shampoo, scrubbed thoroughly, spin cycle dry... er, I mean, towel dried
- Wrote some fiction
I have a lot of old tech crap. Three dot matrix printers (1x 9 pin, 2x 24 pin), an IBM Selectric clone, a 1960s Smith-Corona electric typewriter (an Electra 220), an Atari ST, a set of old stereo speakers, a box of records, 2 old monitors, and a few empty boxes for various appliances, lamps, and computer stuff I no longer have or need boxes for (like my Lava Lamp or a microwave I tossed in 2004).
CR's room is a total mess that resembled an overflowing dumpster. Despite the rule of "no food in your room" he heard "no food in your room unless you want to eat and it's okay to toss wrappers, dishes, bowls, and flatware all about." I guess this is a typical teenager problem, and it reminded me of something that is NOT funny, despite my immature giggling, at a friend of mine who shall remain unnamed who had a conversation with his daughter once. It involved the mysterious artifact of a large jar of peanut butter that appeared in her room during a "you better clean that room or else!" moment. Her strange defense revolved around how old it was, which was "about three years old." The debate that revolved around this was hysterical from a comedy writer's point of view, because the age of the jar of peanut butter was obviously not the point, and almost a self-foot-shooting form of defense, but was delivered as a retort anyway. I had to remain silent, but I quickly imaged this into part of a comedy sketch. Terry Jones plays the Sargent detective, Eric Idle the suspect.
Detective: There's a dead body in here!
Suspect: Oh, but it's been on the floor for three years.
Detective: How did he end up in here?
Suspect: I am assuming he was murdered, and... I dunno, left there?
Detective: Did you murder this man? Did you know him?
Suspect: I guess, I am not sure... But the body has been there for three years, Sargent!
Detective: Why didn't you report this in three years?
Suspect: I needed his wallet or he pissed me off or something. I forget. It's been three years, after all.
Detective: And this doesn't sound weird or strange to you at all?
Suspect: Well, after three years, *I* stopped worrying about it...
I am going to get in trouble over posting that, aren't I?
CR's retort to his mess was "why were you in my room???" and our rock solid defense back was, "we own it, and you don't pay rent." My plan is to be just annoying enough with the reality of being an adult that he eventually moves out in protest. I am trying very hard to foster his independence, but last year's health problems resulted in a 2-year slide backwards in this department.
Speaking of moving out, Anya and Brian have not moved out fully yet. They have a new house with a lot of their stuff in it (I think they come back from their honeymoon tomorrow), but they haven't really moved their stuff out from our guest room. We're also taking care of Stella (Brian's sweet, lovable, and currently lonely cat) and Penny (Anya's terrier mix who needs special care due to a huge cancerous and inoperable tumor). They have a ton of clothes piled up in the laundry room as well, which hampered my efforts to completely clean it, but that was a known and acceptable issue, so that's not a complaint. It's kind of nice, though, being able to go down to the laundry room in my underwear, and not worry about one of them opening the door, "Helloooo!" The fact they have moved out hurts a little, because it kind of made the family home seem complete, but given how packed to the ceiling that room was for the last two years, I am surprised they stayed together at all. Major stress of a relationship when you live in a guest room filled with two houses worth of stuff. If that didn't force them apart, nothing will. But still, even though they only moved to Annandale, my heart hurts a little.
I am addicted to Ninja Warrior. God help me.
When Widget is wet, he does not look like a Chihuahua like I keep thinking he would. He looks like a cute, wet, woodland animal done by Jim Henson Studios. Ahfu looks like a moldy sausage, and hate his ears getting wet, so right now he's rolling on the floor, trying to dry them off (he got wet because it's raining).
After all this work, I actually felt better. Huh.